


Child of the Mountain

by breakofday



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Book Spoilers, Durin Feels, Elf!Kili, Gen, I blame my friends, Magic, Mirkwood, Thrandad, but hopefully now you want more?, but thrandad is my favorite, fili being the best big brother, i don't know where this came from, kili's teenage angst, legolas being a pretty awesome big brother too, post - sacking of Erebor, things you didn't know you wanted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-20
Updated: 2015-01-12
Packaged: 2017-12-15 13:37:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/850145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/breakofday/pseuds/breakofday
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Erebor is taken by Smaug the Terrible, seventeen-year-old Kili flees for safety. He finds refuge in Thranduil's Halls, and stays there while the Elvenking attempts to find what's left of his scattered kin. Sixty years later, the Company of Thorin Oakenshield is arrested by the wood-elves of Mirkwood, where they find the young dwarf who acts like an elf. Torn between two worlds, Kili struggles between staying in the wood with the elves, or joining his kin on a suicide mission to slay a dragon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This idea sort of magically appeared when I was roleplaying with a friend's Thranduil at Dreamwidth and it was too good to not run with it. So this is my shout out to my good friend bluemoon who's encouraged me to work with this idea and who I could not possibly have wrote this without her help. I LIED HER NAME IS EMERALDDARKNESS AND SHE IS SOMEWHERE ON THIS SITE GO FIND HER SHE IS A MASTER OF TOLKIEN LORE
> 
> OOPS SORRY I LIED AGAIN SHE DOESN'T HAVE TOLKIEN STUFF ON HERE YET. BUT SHE WILL. SOMEDAY. BECAUSE I SAY SO.
> 
> Ummm okay just general notes...
> 
> Kili's main language at this point is Sindarin. Unless otherwise stated, that's the language he's speaking, not Westron.
> 
> Also yeah so I fudged some details here in order to make this work, obviously. In the movie Thorin says something about how Smaug hasn't been seen for 60 years, so I assumed it had been 60 years since Erebor had been taken, which would have made Kili 17 at the time and that's kind of where this idea came from. Also yeah I know Mirkwood's pretty far away and it seems unlikely a wee dwarrow could have run that whole way but it took a while and...yeah guys just help me out here and run with it.
> 
> OH AND. 'Orothen' is Kili's Sindarin name, more explanation about that will come later, I promise.
> 
> The rating may change later on, I'm not sure how detailed I'm going to get in like...BoFA which yeah that's gonna happen.
> 
> Aight cool. I hope you enjoy this because man I had so much fun writing it.

Kili looked out at the woods from his perch in the trees, quiver slung over his shoulder and an elvish bow in hand. The full moon cast an eerie glow over the thick canopy, dappling the leaves in shades of blue. He smiled and let out a deep breath, enjoying the fresh air. Enormous moths of grey and black rose to greet him, wings brushing across his skin like kisses, and Kili’s smile grew.

 

Mirkwood stretched out for miles before him, thick clumps of trees blocking out most of the light beneath the canopy. This was Kili’s favorite place to sit, up in the very tops where the butterflies and other cheerful creatures still dwelt. The darker spot of the forest was invisible from here, surrounding the old fortress of Dol Goldur, and Kili shuddered. He’d had his fair share of encounters with spiders. He’d been stung at least four times that he could remember on various hunting trips, and he’d grown to hate them more than anything.

 

Kili’s thoughts were abruptly interrupted by a sharp, violent tug on his free-hanging leg. Thoughts still on spiders and other evil creatures of the forest, his hand went instinctively to the knife at his belt as he was pulled down several branches.

 

There was a merry laugh from below, light and almost silvery, and Kili glared from the treetops, realizing he’d been played. The grip on his ankle released him and the dwarf looked down to see the elf still chuckling at him from the ground.

 

“ _Rhaich_ , Legolas!” he swore. “I almost killed you!”

 

Legolas just chuckled good-naturedly, arms crossed over his chest. “I fear you couldn’t accomplish that if you tried.”

 

Kili scowled and climbed down from the tree, boots hitting the ground with a soft thump. The elf was significantly taller than Kili, but that didn’t stop the dwarf from shoving him against a nearby tree. “We could test that,” he growled.

 

In return, Legolas raised an eyebrow, a hand snaking around to grab Kili by his hood and raise him into the air, feet dangling. The dwarf’s shoulders slumped and he glared.

 

“You made your point. Put me down.”

 

The elf laughed brightly and set him down, giving him a fond smile. “Come, Orothen. You will not wish to be late for the feast. There have been two already and your absence was noticed.”

 

Kili looked up from adjusting his hood, surprised. “Two? I was told there was only going to be one feast.”

 

Legolas looked irritated at the question.  “There have been strangers in the wood,” he said, disdain in his tone. “They attempted to attack us twice.”

 

“Strangers in the wood?” Kili was rather taken aback, shaking his head in surprise. It was rare that strangers dared wander into the Elvenking’s realm. Mirkwood had a reputation after all. “Trespassing to begin with, and that they should have the audacity to attack wood-elves...I wonder that the Elvenking hasn’t had them imprisoned for it.”

 

“He has half a mind to.” Legolas was just as displeased with it as Kili, letting out a great sigh. “It’s why he’s come this time.”

 

Kili shook his head again, wondering what could possibly bring strangers this far into Mirkwood. It was a foreboding place, even for those who knew it well. He felt a twinge of sympathy for them; they must be starving if they had wandered off the path. It was daring enough for them to stay, and surely they _had_ to know the dangers.

 

“Orothen.” Legolas looked back at Kili, cutting through the dwarf’s thoughts. “Please come.”

 

Kili rolled his eyes, a slight smile crossing his face. “ _Some_ one has to make sure you don’t finish all the wine by yourself. I’ll be there. I have something I have to finish first.”

 

Kili was rewarded by the light laughter of the elf once more and smiled before heading back towards the Elvenking’s Halls. Elves were starting to trickle out along the path, bringing food and wine towards the woods. It was tradition to hold feasts in the wood itself, as a sign of defiance to the Necromancer and the Spiders. Kili was well known in Mirkwood, and many of the elves greeted him cheerfully, using the Sindarin name he’d been given.  He smiled and returned the greeting, singing along to the songs in the air.

 

He wondered if Legolas or Thranduil remembered that today marked his sixtieth year in Mirkwood. Sixty years of living among the elves, adopting their culture and practices. He rubbed at the stubble on his cheeks absently, the only thing (besides his height) that was still truly _dwarvish_ about his appearance. He dressed like the elves, talked like them, ate like them, hunted like them...It had been a constant struggle, trying to make himself fit in, but for a dwarf Kili had turned out remarkably elvish, something that seemed to please the other residents of Mirkwood.

 

His life he owed completely to the Elvenking. Kili tried to remember those first days in the wood and was met with memories of Thranduil caring as earnestly for the sick dwarfling as he would have for any of his own kin. He’d been a tiny thing when the dragon had attacked Erebor, his life spared only by the fact that he had been trying to run away because of something his brother had said. Kili remembered that, at least. He remembered watching Dale burn, hearing the screams and tasting the smoke on the air, the stench of burning corpses.

 

He remembered looking out at Erebor and seeing the gleam of his father’s golden hair. And he remembered too clearly the dragonfire that had engulfed him. Kili had been terrified. He’d bolted. He ran until he collapsed, only to get up and run again. When Thranduil had found him, he’d been sobbing in a tree on the edge of the forest, near starved to death and painfully skinny. It had been the Elvenking that had nursed him back to health then, and the Elvenking that had chosen to take Kili in and raise him as one of his own when the dwarves of Erebor could not be contacted.

 

Kili shivered slightly at the bad memories and tried to shake it off. Even after sixty years, he still had nightmares of Smaug, of watching his father burn. Tonight was not meant to be a night of sorrow, but a night of celebration. He loved the wood, loved the elves and the small family he had cobbled together here. And tonight he meant to show them his appreciation.

 

Thranduil had never let Kili forget his heritage. The blacksmiths in Mirkwood were not as skilled as others of their kind, but between their shared knowledge and what little was remembered of the dwarves’ technique, Kili learned a great deal. Metalworking was something he found he had a great talent in, something that came easily and almost instinctively to him. It was mere decades before he had a forge of his own, and many came to him to request his skill. It was through this ability that Kili connected with his forefathers, through this that he felt like a _true_ dwarf, and he loved it.

 

Stepping quietly into his forge, Kili bundled up the set of white-handled knives in a bit of cloth and tucked them away into his coat. He considered for a moment or two before buckling his sword to his hip along with his usual bow and quiver. Mirkwood was a dangerous place, after all. Kili had needed to prove he could handle himself before Thranduil had let him out with any of the usual hunting parties, and their celebrations tended to draw in an uninvited guest or two. The daring of these strangers too meant there was a good chance they would try again to attack, and Kili wanted to be well defended.

 

By the time Kili arrived at the feast, it had only just started. Pleased with himself for making it on time, he made his way quietly through the crowds to kneel before the Elvenking and present himself.

 

“The stars shine upon the hour of our meeting,” he murmured respectfully, keeping his head bowed.

 

Thranduil inclined his head. As usual he looked slightly enigmatic, if pleased. Even after sixty years Kili still couldn’t tell what he was thinking. “I take it you have decided to join us, Orothen. Rise and take your place.”

 

“The night is waning!” called another elf, and there were a few titters of laughter around the table.

 

Kili smiled and stood, but before he took his place, he pulled the cloth wrapped knives out of his coat. “My Lord, I want to present you with these, as thanks for the sixty years I have been honored to live in your wood.”

 

Offering the knives out, he waited. Something like a smile shone in Thranduil’s eyes as he opened up the cloth to take the knives, bone handled and carved to the best of Kili’s ability with trees and mountains. The blades were some of Kili’s finest work, and he was proud of what he’d been able to create. He had never wanted to give Thranduil anything less than his best, after all.

 

“Your skill continues to improve,” Thranduil finally declared, sheathing the knives, and a proud smile crossed the young dwarf’s face. “These are very fine indeed. You have given us more than you know, Orothen.”

 

It was high praise coming from the Elvenking, and Kili was beaming when he finally took his seat on the left hand of Thranduil, opposite of Legolas. His adopted brother winked at him before reaching over to fill Kili’s glass with wine.

 

“This may be the finest wine I’ve ever had,” Legolas declared. Kili chuckled as he leaned back in his seat, sipping at it. The stuff was incredibly strong, and he knew from experience not to drink more than small amounts at a time.

 

“I think you say that every time, Legolas,” Kili pointed out, and the elves around him laughed.

 

The Elvenking’s son laughed brightly, his blue eyes twinkling merrily. “Clearly that means the quality of the wine has only improved with time,” he concluded.

 

Kili shook his head, laughing along with the others as he admired the table. It was laden with all the very best Mirkwood could provide. There were steaming plates of varied meats, a remarkable arrangement of greens and roots, baskets of bread, and assorted other dishes. Kili loaded up his plate with venison and elk, eating with gusto. While he had picked up elvish eating habits, occasionally his dwarvish nature slipped through.

 

He was on his second glass of wine when the dancing and singing started. Suitably full of food and pleasantly warm from the alcohol, Kili’s gaze moved to one elf maiden in particular. Dark hair beset with tiny white flowers, her skin fair but marked with scars, her voice was the sweetest to his ears, and her dancing the most graceful. He let out a sigh, and Legolas kicked him from under the table.

 

Staring. Right.

 

“Orothen.” Thranduil’s voice was gentle, and he plucked Kili’s glass from the dwarf’s hands. “You’ve had enough to drink.”

 

“Perhaps you’re right,” Kili agreed, and shifted his gaze to Legolas instead. The fair-haired elf was watching him with mild concern, and he shook his head to indicate he was fine, there was nothing to worry about. “Excuse me, My Lord, I think I’ll draw nearer to the fire,” he murmured, and got to his feet.

 

He didn’t have to look behind him to know that Legolas was following. Sitting on a sawed off tree stump beside the fire, Kili sighed, feeling the elf seat himself just behind him. He closed his eyes as Legolas took a few strands of Kili’s soft dark hair in his fingers, weaving slender braids.

 

“I don’t know why I can’t stop thinking about her,” Kili finally said softly, leaning back slightly against his brother.

 

Legolas chuckled softly. “I have never seen you give anything up easily, Orothen.” He plucked a few flowers up from the ground, winding them in with the braids. “But she is a warrior, and you just a child in her eyes.”

 

That drew an irritated sound from Kili. “But I’m _not_ a child.”

 

The elf smiled. “I never said you were. Though it does not seem it was very long ago at all that you were a tiny dwarfling I could lift on my shoulders.”

 

“Legolas.” Kili tilted his head back, giving him a flat look.

 

“Forgive me, brother,” Legolas said with a laugh. “You know how strange it is for me to see you grow so quickly.

Kili huffed. “You’re so sentimental.”

 

The elf was about to reply when the entire gathering fell completely silent. Startled, Kili looked around to see that a stranger had emerged into their midst. Brown eyes widened and he stood slowly. It had been many long years since he’d seen another dwarf, after all.

 

His hair was dark and streaked with grey, fierce blue eyes piercing through his tangled mane. It was clear just from one glance that he was a warrior, judging by the scars and the way he held himself. Those intense eyes found Kili after a moment, widening dramatically in shock and something else. Horror? Understanding? His chapped lips parted, but before he could speak a word, all hell broke loose.

 

The fire went out in a puff of black smoke and for a moment, Kili was blind. All the elves were moving, fast and silent, darting along the familiar path. He could feel them brushing past them, almost taste the terror on them. Slim fingers closed around Kili’s upper arm, tugging him away.

 

“Orothen.” Kili recognized the voice immediately as Legolas’. “Go home, I’ll meet you there. The Elvenking wants the stranger taken in for questioning.”

 

“Wait!” he protested, vision coming back slowly. “Legolas, he’s a dwarf! You never told me they were dwarves!”

 

“There was no need to.” The elf’s eyes glittered in the moonlight. “Go.”

 

Frustrated but knowing there was no use in arguing, Kili sighed and set off after the elves, running along the path back to the halls. The look on the strange dwarf’s face stayed fresh in his memory, haunting him. It was as though...as though he’d recognized him, as though he _knew_ Kili. Worse still was the nagging feeling that he’d seen that dwarf before, though in dream or reality, he couldn’t say.

 

Once safely in the halls, Kili went immediately to the throne room. The Elvenking was already there. His eyes fell on the young dwarf, a slight frown curving his lips downward. Kili was an open book, and it was easy to tell what he was about to ask.

 

“My Lord, please,” Kili stammered out, the words coming in a rush. If he didn’t ask now, he’d lose his nerve and his chance. “Permit me to stay during his questioning.”

 

Thranduil shook his head. “Not this time, Orothen.”

 

“Please!” Even Kili was surprised by the pleading in his voice. “I know you never meant for me to stay so long. You meant to return me to my own people, and I think...I think he _knows_ me. What if he knows something about my family?”

 

There was a long pause. Finally Thranduil spoke. “If he does indeed know who you once were, your presence may influence his answers. No, it is best you stay out of this.”

 

“But--” Kili tried to interrupt, but Thranduil cut him off.

 

“If it is a matter that concerns you, I will inform you. For now, I mean to determine what he and his company have been doing in my wood.” The Elvenking’s voice was firm. Defeated, the young dwarf sighed and inclined his head respectfully.

 

“Forgive me, My Lord. I’ll retire for the night,” he murmured, and excused himself.


	2. Chapter 2

“Stay here.” Thorin’s voice was hoarse in the dark, and Fili squinted to see him better in the gloom. His uncle was silhouetted against the reddish lanterns and torches of the wood-elves’ feast, blue eyes glinting in his face. Their food had since run out, and the smell of roasted meats was almost too much for the starving dwarves to bear. They’d interrupted the feast two times now to beg for food, but both times it had ended terribly.

“Are you sure this is going to work?” Fili asked quietly, enough so the rest of the Company couldn’t hear. Thorin sighed and shook his head.

“I do not know,” he admitted, resting a hand on his nephew’s shoulder. It was too bony beneath his palm. Fili was thinner than he’d ever seen him, his cheeks hollowed with hunger. It was for his sake that Thorin had to do this. He wouldn’t watch Fili starve slowly to death. “But I cannot stand idly by while food is within our reach.”

Fili’s stomach rumbled loudly and his cheeks colored slightly in embarrassment. Nodding, he drew back to wait with the rest of the Company. “Good luck, Thorin.”

Thorin smiled slightly to reassure him, and stepped into the clearing.

There was dead silence for several moments, and then everything went dark. Smoke rose up in black plumes and elves ran in every direction, separating the Company. Fili yelped as an elf bumped  into his shoulder hard, knocking him sideways and sending him staggering into someone.

And just as abruptly as the chaos started, it ended. Fili could still hear yelling, deep and low, dwarvish, clearly.  He groped blindly for whoever it was he’d bumped into earlier, finding a shoulder. “Who is that?”

“Ori. Is that you, Fili?”

“Aye.”

There was a sigh of relief from the youngest dwarf, his hand sliding down Fili’s arm to grasp his hand. Fili smiled faintly and squeezed.

“Come on, I think I can hear someone over this way.”

Feeling their way in the dark, the two dwarves stumbled in the direction of the shouts. It wasn’t long until Ori walked right into something with a little yelp.

“Ow! Sorry!”

There was no answer. Fili squeezed Ori’s hand tightly. “Listen,” he hissed. “It’s gone quiet. I can’t hear anyone.”

Fili could feel his young friend trembling beside him. “Wh-what did I just walk into, then?” Ori asked fearfully.

The older dwarf was about to reply when he felt Ori’s hand slip out of his. There was a soft whimper, followed by a thump.

“Ori?”

Silence was all that met Fili’s ears. Hands outstretched in front of him, he felt for where Ori had been standing. His fingers touched nothing but air.

“ _Ori!_ ”

Again, silence. Fear was rising in Fili’s chest, suffocating him, and he beat it down as best he could. Focus, focus. Ori was missing, as was everyone else, apparently. His best option would be to continue heading in the direction he last heard some of the others.

He’d barely taken one step when he felt something puncture his skin right at the base of his spine. Fili let out a muffled cry and struck out blindly. Whatever it was that hit him retracted, only to return again, this time plunging into the side of his neck.

“N-no…”

Fili’s voice was faint as his knees buckled beneath him. Something caught him around the waist, horrible and hairy, and that was the last thing he knew for a long while.

 

 

“Fili. Come on, wake up.”

Fili groaned, blue eyes fluttering open. He was flat on his back on the forest ground, Bofur hovering over him with a knife. He started in surprise, but Bofur gave him a reassuring smile.

“Easy, lad. Just gettin’ you out o’ this cocoon o’ yours,” he said, and turned the blade outward, gently ripping through the strands of sticky silk that kept Fili bound. The young dwarf stayed still, waiting impatiently.

“Were we—those were—“ Fili stuttered, but he couldn’t quite form sentences.

“Spiders. Giant ones,” Dwalin answered, striding over to Fili’s side. He offered him a hand once Bofur was done cutting him free. “On your feet lad, let’s go. Our burglar’s led the things away for now, but they’ll be back.”

The blond dwarf clasped Dwalin’s hand, getting shakily to his feet. Already weak with hunger, the two doses of spider venom had done Fili no favors. He clutched at Dwalin’s arm, closing his eyes as the world started to spin.

“Fili?”

It was Ori’s voice this time. Fili opened his eyes to see the youngest of the party watching him anxiously.

“’M alright,” he muttered. The puncture wounds in his neck and the base of his spine throbbed, and he leaned against the tattooed dwarf, trying to breathe shallowly. Nausea was rising in his stomach and he willed himself not to be sick.

“Come on, lad.” Dwalin’s voice was gentle, a strong arm going around the younger dwarf to support him. Slowly but surely, Fili stumbled along beside him, following the ragtag group of exhausted dwarves. Ori hovered on his other side, ready to help should the need arise.

They hadn’t gone far at all when Bilbo returned, urging them onwards. The spiders were in pursuit, he reminded them, and they must find somewhere safe or they’d be right back where they started. Fili staggered on only a few more steps before breaking away from Dwalin and falling onto all fours, gagging and dry heaving. There was nothing in his stomach to empty, and all that came up was a mix of bile and blood.

“Fili!” Ori hurried to his friend’s side, rubbing soothing circles in his back. Sick and exhausted, Fili wrapped both arms around Ori’s neck, hiding his face in his shoulder. As though he'd done this a thousand times, the younger dwarf ran shaky fingers through dirty blond hair, hoping to soothe him. Fili’s skin was too warm against his, and he looked back to the others worriedly. “I…I think he has a fever,” he said anxiously. “What do we do?”

“We can’t stay here!” the hobbit fretted, glancing back towards where they had come, and Dwalin instinctively looked around to their king for leadership.

But Thorin was missing.

“Where’s Thorin?” the tattooed dwarf asked roughly. “Has anyone seen ‘im?”

Instantly the anxiety of the Company rose by several degrees, all of them looking about for their king. There was no sign of him. Fili looked up from Ori’s shoulder, his face suspiciously wet.

“Look, we can worry about Thorin later,” Bilbo said finally, sounding exasperated. “Right now, we’ve got to move.”

Ori frowned. “But what about--?”

“I’ll be fine,” Fili broke in hoarsely. Wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, he stood, swaying slightly. With Thorin gone, the position of leadership fell to him. Just because he was ill didn’t mean he was weak. “I’ll be fine,” he repeated, his voice a little stronger now. “Bilbo’s right. We need to find somewhere safe to rest. Bofur, you’ve the best head for directions. Could you get us back to the path?”

Bofur looked rather bewildered at being pointed out. Being a miner, however, he did have a good sense of direction, better than the others. Frowning slightly, he shook his head. “No, I don’t reckon I could, not with my ‘ead all fuzzy as it is.”

There was a long, disappointed pause, and then Bofur spoke again, hesitantly. “Might be able t’ get us back t’ that clearing where them elves was, though.”

Fili swayed again, and Ori ducked under his arm to support him. Giving Ori a quick, strained smile, he turned his attention back to Bofur and nodded. “That will do.”

Inclining his head briefly in respect, Bofur smiled and moved to the front of the pack, starting to lead them on. The weary dwarves followed silently, Fili doing his best to keep up with Ori’s help. It was difficult to tell how long it had been before Bofur let out a triumphant cry, and the Company emerged in the grassy clearing. Fili, by this point, could go no further, and sank down to the grass with a soft groan.

“No more,” he murmured, and fell asleep in moments.

 

 

He woke to the sound of unfamiliar voices. His head now pillowed in Dwalin’s lap, Fili let out a low, discontented sound and opened his eyes. One of Dwalin’s hands rested protectively in blond hair, the other grasping his axe loosely. He could hear voices speaking in a language he didn’t understand, and when he looked up it seemed the Company had formed a circle around Fili. Shielding him, he realized.

Fili frowned and looked up at Dwalin, murmuring quietly to him in the secret language of the dwarves. “ _What’s happening?”_

The older dwarf shook his head slowly and replied in kind. “ _Elves found us_ ,” he answered. “ _Mahal knows what they’re discussing now_.” He paused a moment, and when he spoke again, his voice was strained. “ _There’s a dwarf with them_.”

Fili wanted to say something to that, but before he could speak, there was a voice. Low, vaguely familiar, which Fili assumed was just because it had to be the dwarf. He spoke in Westron, but with a strange accent, and he seemed a bit unfamiliar with the language, as occasionally he would pause between words.

“I…know you,” the voice said. Fili still couldn’t see him, couldn’t tell who he was speaking to. “ _Rhaich_ , I…cannot remember how, but you were there.” There was a brief pause. “In Erebor. You were there.”

Another silence followed, and it was Balin who broke it. “Aye, I was,” he replied, his voice puzzled. “But who are you?”

The stranger didn’t seem keen to answer the question. “I want to see him,” he said. “…Please. The one that you are hiding.”

Fili’s heart thumped strangely in his chest, and he did his best to sit up, leaning against Dwalin. The older dwarf bared his teeth, gripping his axe tighter.

Balin finally moved out of the way, and Fili’s heart stopped completely.

The dark haired dwarf was equally stunned, murky brown eyes widening and a quiet gasp escaping him. Dwalin tightened his grip on Fili but the younger dwarf pushed his hand away, still staring at the stranger.

“Fi,” the strange dwarf said in a strangled whisper.

“ _Kili_ ,” Fili breathed, eyes wide.

Kili let out a broken laugh and sank to his knees, wrapping his arms tightly around the blond dwarf. Fili was still numb with shock, his arms going instinctively around his long lost brother. When they finally broke apart, both dwarves’ eyes were wet. Kili touched Fili’s face, stroking down his cheek and touching the braids on his mustache, coated as they were with spider silk.

“You’re ill, _khazash_ ,” he said with a frown, instinctively slipping into Khuzdul to address his brother. “We will take care of you. And feed you. _Ai Elbereth_ , how thin you are!”

Fili closed his eyes, leaning slightly into Kili’s hand. “Kili, how…we thought you dead.”

The dark haired dwarf smiled grimly and pressed his lips to Fili’s brow. “I will explain everything, but not now.”

One of the elves shifted, having been watching the exchange with a shadowed gaze. He called to the dwarf in his elf-tongue, and Kili glanced back at him, answering in kind.

“Come, Fili. You and your company are to be guests of my king,” he said quietly. Standing, he offered a hand to his brother. Still confused and half-wondering if this was merely a fever dream, Fili took it and stood, accepting the support from the stranger who was once his baby brother.

“Guests?” Bofur muttered doubtfully. “Some’ow I don’t quite believe that.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter actually came surprisingly quickly, it just took forever to edit and decide where I wanted to end it. But yay reunion! Things are about to start getting messy.
> 
> I used the word 'khazash' as 'brother' in Khuzdul because I read it in another fic once and liked it a lot more than 'nadad', which was the word I was able to find for it. But man Khuzdul is so subjunctive at this point I don't think it matters terribly.
> 
> 'Rhaich' translates into 'curses' in Sindarin. 'Ai Elbereth' is essentially the same thing except it's invoking Elbereth's name. So like saying 'oh god' I guess would be the best translation haha wow that sounds way less cool than Ai Elbereth.
> 
> /curses in Sindarin from now on
> 
> Oh also another note about Kili. I mentioned before that he speaks entirely in Sindarin. That's literally now his native language and has been since he was bitty, so that's why his Westron isn't as good. Elves don't really have a need to speak any language other than their own, but Thranduil's helped Kili stay at least able to communicate in Westron as well as Khuzdul. More info on that to come later in the story.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AGH I APOLOGIZE for the lateness, I really didn't mean to take so long with this but I sat on it for a while and then I was super stressed out because of personal family things that were happening over the summer and...yeah I'm sorry this is so late.
> 
> Another shout out to emeralddarkness for beta-ing me and for helping with this chapter. It's based almost completely off a roleplay that her and I did together so basically all of Thranduil's dialogue is coming from her.

The walk back to the Elvenking’s halls was in near-complete silence. Legolas kept glancing Kili’s way, asking quiet questions in Sindarin that Kili brushed off. “Later”, was all the dwarf would say. He was too occupied with the fact that his blood brother was in his arms, ill and leaning heavily against him, but he was _here_. It was difficult to really come to terms with that, after all these years of dreaming and wondering what Fili would say if he saw where Kili ended up.

 

A few of the other dwarves attempted to speak with Kili, claiming they knew him as a child. He didn’t doubt them, but nor did he particularly trust them. After a thoughtless question that rankled Kili to no end, he had turned on the tattooed dwarf and snarled out threats in mixed Sindarin and Westron, and they left him alone after that.

 

He was anxious too of what Thranduil would say. Kili had been expressly forbidden from joining up with Legolas’ hunting party to find the dwarves, as Thranduil had been unwilling to put Kili in the middle of a potentially ugly situation. But Kili had to see them, to know who they were before the Elvenking passed judgement, whatever that may mean for them. While he was glad that he’d found Fili, he had long since learned that every action came with a consequence.

 

Pulling Fili’s arm more securely around his shoulders, Kili followed behind Legolas as the parade of elves entered the Halls and made their way into the throne room. The dwarves were lined up in front of the throne, Kili standing slightly apart from them and supporting his feverish brother.

 

The look Thranduil gave him made his insides writhe with guilt. The Elvenking’s gaze stayed on Kili for some moments before he looked away pointedly. That almost hurt worse, and Kili bit his lip, looking down and suitably ashamed of his disobedience.

 

“Unbind them,” Thranduil ordered, and the guards obeyed as Legolas took his place beside his father’s throne. There was no way they could escape the Halls, not with the magic that imbued the doors.

 

The Elvenking’s voice rang through the halls, stern and unyielding. “Why did your company trespass in my realm, and thrice attack my people at their merrymaking?”

 

His words were met with a flurry of movement from the captive dwarves as they shifted from foot to foot and glanced at each other, but there was no response. The only sound was a groan from Fili as Kili shifted his hold on his brother, turning it more into an embrace than anything. His head rested lightly on top of golden tassels, brown eyes closing.

 

Thranduil addressed Kili this time, using Sindarin rather than the common tongue. “Perhaps you may answer for them?” he asked coolly, and Kili’s head jerked up in surprise. He hesitated slightly, fingers brushing almost unconsciously through Fili’s hair.

 

He knew he was already on shaky ground, and standing here with his brother in his arms was hardly helping the situation. He was still loyal to Thranduil, still just as dedicated a subject and son as he’d ever been to the elf.

 

“They’re travelling,” Kili said softly. He’d understood the dwarves’ language amongst themselves, after all, though perhaps they had thought he’d forgotten it with his broken Westron. “I know not where to.”

 

He hesitated another moment before indicating Fili. “My king...this dwarf is my brother.”

 

Legolas let out a quiet gasp of surprise, his blue eyes widening and silently questioning Kili. Thranduil however showed little reaction, his eyes merely flicking to the blond dwarf before back to his ward. “Do you know their intentions?”

 

Kili shook his head. “I do not think they mean us any harm,” he replied, choosing his words deliberately. “They are starving and ill, My Lord.”

 

Thranduil’s expression didn’t change, still rather grim as he spoke. “Perhaps. But that does not mean they will not cause harm inadvertently.”

 

Kili swallowed and nodded, accepting that the fate of the dwarves was not in his hands. Thranduil was king, and they had violated his laws.

 

This time when Kili spoke, it was in his halting Westron, so he could be understood by all in the room. “ _Adar_ , you will hear no...objections from me on your...decision. You are my king, and my...allegiance is and...always will be with you.”

 

A collective gasp came up from the dwarves, shocked and horrified to hear Kili address the elf in such a way. To declare his loyalties with the king of Mirkwood was denying his heritage and the long-held grudge between elves and dwarves, though it was clear the elvish dwarf couldn’t care less. Thranduil nodded in acknowledgment and turned his attention back to the weary dwarves.

 

“It is rude to refuse to speak to one whose land you have invaded, and whose people you have disturbed,” the Elvenking said to the dwarves, watching them coldly. Several pairs of defiant eyes stared right back at him, though most kept their heads down. “Is there none among your company who will speak?”

 

Fili stirred slightly and raised his head, but Kili shushed him quietly, softly murmuring for him to relax. He was in no state to be interrogated right now, though Kili hoped to question him himself later. The other dwarves stayed silent, sharing glances with each other, until finally, a dwarf with a long, forked white beard stepped forward. The familiar one, Kili noted. The kind one.

 

“Balin,” Fili murmured, and Kili nodded. Yes, that name certainly seemed to fit the vague recollections he had of the aging dwarf.

 

“I will speak,” the dwarf said.

 

Thranduil inclined his head. “Then do so. Why have you been harassing my people and trespassing in my realm?”

 

Balin frowned and shook his head, his beard waving back and forth as he did so. “We haven’t been harassing anyone,” he said. “We were hungry. We wanted to beg your people for food.”

 

“But why were you in my realm?” the Elvenking pressed, a note of irritation in his voice. He didn’t take lightly to having his questions ignored.

 

Balin hesitated and glanced back at his companions. The tattooed dwarf shook his head, cracking his knuckles, but Kili gave him a nod, eyes silently pleading. It would be better for them if they cooperated. Thranduil was hardly cruel, but he put the safety of his people above all else, and if he felt the dwarves posed any kind of threat, he would act accordingly.

 

Finally Balin spoke. “We were just passing through.”

 

Thranduil shook his head. “Where _to_?”

 

The only thing Kili could think of was Erebor, but that would be suicide. He glanced around at the other dwarves, but even Balin looked cowed at the question, determined not to speak.

 

Abruptly, Fili let out a moan and fainted, going limp in his brother’s arms. Kili staggered at the sudden weight, shifting his hold even as he cast a pleading glance at Thranduil.

 

The timing was a little too convenient, but Fili was clearly not faking. The Elvenking scrutinized the fallen dwarf and his companions for a few moments before he let out a sigh and looked to the guards, speaking in Sindarin once more.

 

“Take care of them, but do not allow them to wander. Do not answer any of their questions; they shall receive no answers until they have given me answers themselves.” The guards nodded, shepherding the dwarves away. Kili made to follow them, lifting an unconscious Fili up onto his shoulder with a grunt, until Thranduil called for him.

 

“Orothen, I shall need to see you later,” he ordered. “You may accompany your brother for now.”

 

“Thank you, Adar,” he replied quietly, and left the room, heading for the healing wing to ensure Fili would get the help he needed.

  
  
  
  


 

 

Kili found Thranduil in the stables, brushing out the tangles in his elk’s fur. He looked around instinctively for his own doe before remembering she had passed some years previously, and a brief wave of sadness washed over him. Kili’s steps were quiet for a dwarf, but hardly so for an elf, and he knew Thranduil was aware of his presence for several moments before he finally spoke up.

 

“Ada?”

 

His voice was soft and vulnerable as he used the affectionate name for Thranduil that hadn’t escaped his lips since he was a small child. The Elvenking turned to face him, and Kili noted with some surprise that he looked remarkably weary, old and tired behind the mask of a king. But then he spoke, and the strange expression was gone.

 

“Orothen. I take it your brother is alright?”

 

Kili nodded slightly. “The healers say he will recover with time and rest.”

 

There was a pause, and he reached out to stroke through the elk’s freshly brushed coat. The two of them stood in silence for a few moments longer before Kili finally worked up the courage to speak again.

 

“Ada...Forgive me.”

 

The response was haughty, and Kili was reminded once more that while Thranduil had raised him, he was still every inch a king. “For what reason should I? You disobeyed my direct orders.”

 

Kili looked down and shifted from foot to foot, his hand falling from the mighty elk’s side. “I know, and I should have done as you asked. But something in my heart told me I had to go.”

 

For some time, Thranduil did not answer, brushing out his elk’s coat thoughtfully. He didn’t look back at Kili as he did so, and once again he looked tired.

 

“Then you should have come to me, to discuss the matter.”

 

It seemed so obvious now in retrospect. Kili felt like a fool as he sighed and nodded. “I should have.  Adar, I’m so sorry for disobeying.”

 

There was another one of those agonizing pauses, until Thranduil turned his attention back to Kili, raising one eyebrow. “Are you truly?”

 

“I am.” Kili tried not to raise his voice, though he had little idea what he was expected to do to make up for his mistakes. “I’ll do anything to prove that to you.”

 

“Orothen…” The disappointment in Thranduil’s voice was clear, the soft, barely there sigh. “I do not give commands needlessly. I trusted you to understand that, and expected you to trust me enough to follow them. But you did not, and that trust is broken. You knew I had your best interests at heart, and still you chose to disobey.”

 

The words were like a punch to the gut, and though Kili had this discussion with Thranduil in the past on previous mistakes, it still brought tears of frustration pricking at his eyes. “Adar, I’m _sorry_!”

 

His voice cracked and he looked away. It had been a rough day, full of emotional ups and downs, and it hurt to hear that Thranduil could not trust him after this violation. He hadn’t meant any harm by it, only to learn more, but he saw now what a terrible mistake it had been, how wrong it was of him not to trust his king more. The Elvenking had meant only to protect him and to keep him out of a difficult position. Now Kili was stuck somewhere between Fili and the elves. His hands clenched into fists as he willed himself to stay strong. In front of Thranduil was not the place to break down.

 

Thranduil watched the dwarf with a hint of sorrow in his eyes. It seemed only yesterday that he had found the dirty, sick little dwarfling on the edge of his forest, wailing for his mother. And now he knew Kili’s days in Mirkwood were numbered. It brought a deep, quiet grief. The boy had come to mean a great deal to him. The Elvenking let out another tiny sigh before speaking once more.

 

“Do not leave my halls without permission, not for now. I will allow you to see your kin, but you will not permit them to wander far until I have granted it. And should they make their purpose known to you…” Here he paused for just a moment. “I trust you will bring that information to me. I must judge what to do with them, as is my duty as king, and I cannot do so without knowing with surety what it is they seek.”

 

The revocation of privileges suited the misdeed and Kili accepted it without question. To add on an opportunity to prove himself once more to his king filled Kili with gratitude and a determination to do right.

 

“I...I will learn their intentions,” he promised, his voice growing stronger. “I will make it up to you, Adar. I swear it.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally we're getting somewhere! Hurraaaayyyy! Gosh I'm so excited for the next few chapters guys, it's gonna be great. Sorry this one was a little slow and draggy but it needed to happen. 
> 
> Also yeah. Kili totally had his own elk at one point.


	4. Chapter 4

Kili sat quietly in the medical wing of the Elvenking’s Halls, watching his brother sleep. It was shocking, really, how much Fili looked like their father.  Kili could see him there in every line of his relaxed face, in his messy golden braids and even the silly mustache. That first glance in the wood, Kili had actually mistaken his brother for their father.

 

He doesn’t remember what their father sounded like anymore, he realized sadly. The sound of his voice has faded from memory, along with most of his early years in Erebor. But he remembered their faces, Mother’s and Father’s. Everyone else’s was vague and confused.

 

Kili closed his eyes and leaned forward slightly, fingers absently brushing through the downy feathers of the owlet in his lap. Legolas had found the small creature alone in the wood earlier this morning and brought her back to the Halls for Kili to care for. He’d of course heard of Kili’s punishment, and knew that the young dwarf had a particular affinity for animals. Kili was just <i>good</i> with them, almost as much as an elf, and caring for injured or orphaned animals found by the hunting parties was one of his favorite hobbies. So naturally, the little owlet was to be Kili’s until she was old enough to be out on her own.

 

Kili let out a quiet sigh, remembering the elk that Thranduil had given to him as a child. The fawn had been weak and wobbly, suffering from the effects of spider venom and the loss of her mother. He’d cared for the little creature to the best of his ability, and she had blossomed, growing into a healthy doe. But when it was time for her to leave the Halls and return to the woods, she’d refused to leave her caretaker’s side. Kili had been beyond thrilled and took great delight in taking her on rides around the Halls. She was nearly as docile around him as a horse, and he’d mourned her death for months. He still missed her sometimes, though there had been other elk and deer and all sorts of animals that had taken to him.

 

As for the spotted owl in Kili’s lap, she would need more time before she was entirely comfortable with him. He let out a yelp as she nipped hard at his fingertips, her sharp little beak drawing blood. Shaking his head, Kili chuckled and sucked off the blood.

 

“You’re a feisty little one, aren’t you?” he asked her. She clacked her beak as menacingly as a tiny little owlet could and he laughed again. “Forgive me, my lady,” he apologized, and surprisingly, she seemed to calm.

 

She was probably hungry, Kili thought, and stood, setting her down carefully on his chair. “No wandering off,” he told her, and left the room. There were some dried strips of meat that Legolas had given him and were resting in a satchel in his room. He should have brought them with him to see Fili, but he’d been so occupied with the thought that maybe, just maybe, his brother was awake and waiting for him, that he’d completely forgot.

 

Jogging to his room and back only took a few minutes, and his eyes went immediately to the now empty chair where the little owlet had been.

 

“ _Rhaich_ ,” he swore quietly, and immediately began looking around the room for her.

 

“Kili?”

 

His name, in Westron no less, immediately caught Kili’s attention, and he spun back to Fili’s bed. The poor dwarf was face-to-face with the aggressive owlet, looking to Kili for help.

 

Kili couldn’t help but laugh, going back to his brother’s bedside to scoop the little creature up in his arms and set her on his shoulder. She hissed and gave his ear a good nip, making Kili wince slightly.

 

“Don’t worry about her, she’s--”

 

Fili was staring at him blankly, and Kili realized he was still speaking in Sindarin, not Westron. Chuckling at himself, he sat down in the chair and shook his head.

 

“Sorry,” he apologized sheepishly. “I don’t have to speak Westron much.” His accent was heavy and his pronunciation not exactly the best, but at least he was understandable.  “How are you feeling?”

 

Fili sat up slightly with a wince, leaning back on his arms and shrugging. “Better. A bit sore. But why do you have a bitey bird?”

 

Kili grinned and opened up the satchel Legolas had offered him, pulling out a small strip of dried meat and offering it to the owlet. She gobbled it up hungrily and he stroked her head gently with a finger before answering his brother.

 

“Owl,” he corrected gently. “She’s orphaned and Legolas brought her to me to take care of her.”

 

Fili watched his brother quietly, frowning slightly. It was difficult to relate this Kili with the baby brother he remembered from their childhood. He looked different, talked different, acted different…

 

“Who’s Legolas?” he asked curiously.

 

Kili fed the owl another strip of meat, a little distracted as he answered. “My brother.” Fili started in surprise, and Kili realized what he’d said. “Well, not...obviously not by blood. But when Thranduil took me in, Legolas just sort of stepped in and started calling me his younger brother,” he tried to explain.

 

“Wait…” Fili’s frown deepened and he stared intently at his brother. “<i>Thranduil</i>? Isn’t that the elf king? The one that Dwalin used to tell us stories about?”

 

Kili burst into laughter, the sound startling the owl on his shoulder. She nipped another one of his fingers hard, drawing blood yet again, but Kili hardly seemed bothered by it, still laughing as he transferred her to his lap.

 

“Yes, that one,” Kili agreed, once he’d calmed down and wiped the fresh blood on his trousers. “The stories were a little exaggerated, to say the least.” He fed the little owl another strip of meat. “Thranduil found me. I was ill and tired and dirty, but he took me back to his Halls, gave me a bath, fed me, nursed me back to health… He took care of me. He still does.”

 

“Really?” Fili blinked in surprise. That didn’t at all match any of Dwalin’s stories. But then again, they’d been tiny things back then, and Mahal knew this wasn’t the first time Fili was learning something Dwalin had told him wasn’t entirely accurate. “So this whole time, we thought you were dead, but you’ve--”

 

“Been here.” Kili nodded, still absently feeding the owlet. When she nipped him a third time, he didn’t even notice, too preoccupied with his own memories. “Thranduil only meant for me to stay for a little while, until he could find my family, but he was never able to track any of you down.”

 

Fili stayed quiet for a moment, just thinking. It was hard to imagine Kili growing up here, but when he looked at the dwarf beside him, hair perfectly combed and braided, feeding a baby owl, and he could see a distinctive elvish-ness to him. Fili sat up a bit, leaning back on his hands with a slight wince. Kili caught the pain in his brother’s expression and frowned.

 

“Are you feeling alright?”

 

Fili nodded, letting out a quiet breath. “Sore,” he admitted. “And tired.”

 

Kili continued to feed the owl and nodded as well. “That will last for a few days,” he replied. “Give it a week and you’ll be at your full strength again.”

 

A week could be a long time. Fili’s arms started to shake, and he laid back down again. He felt weak and achy all over, but at least the fever had left him. He watched the elvish dwarf as he finished feeding the owlet the last of the strips of meat. The little thing seemed satisfied  and settled against Kili, snuggled in his lap, and Kili smiled, gently stroking down her feathers.

 

“Mother will be thrilled to see you again,” Fili commented quietly, and Kili’s head snapped up, a brief flare of terror in his eyes.

 

“Is she coming here too?” he asked hesitantly, and the responding chuckle from Fili was enough of an answer for him.

 

“No, of course not.” Fili couldn’t understand why Kili looked so frightened. “She’ll meet us in Erebor, once we’ve reclaimed it.”

 

The dark haired dwarf went very still. “We?” he echoed, his voice sounding distant and confused.

 

“Aye.” Fili paused, giving him a strange look. “You and me and the Company.”

 

Kili’s heart was racing in his chest. Fili didn’t understand. He didn’t get it. Mirkwood was Kili’s <i>home</i>. He had a family here that he loved, and Fili expected him to just leave it all behind without a second thought.

 

Fili seemed to guess at what Kili was thinking, and a confused expression spread across his face. “Surely you don’t intend to stay <i>here</i> the rest your life? With all the elves?”

 

Kili said nothing, looking down at the owlet in his lap. He let out a deep sigh, stroking her gently. After a moment he stood, transferring the owlet to his shoulder again and squeezing Fili’s shoulder lightly.

 

“I need to go do my chores. You focus on getting better.”

 

Fili frowned slightly but nodded. Clearly Kili didn’t want to talk about it. “I’ll see you later, Kili.”

 

“Aye.”

 

Kili gave him a small smile, hoping to reassure him, and left the room.

 

xXx

 

Kili’s next stop was to visit the first dwarf they had caught. Thranduil had reason to believe he was the leader of the company, and more than that, Kili was sure he knew him. There was something about his eyes, the way he’d looked at Kili when he’d seen him… He was someone from Erebor. Kili just couldn’t remember <i>who</i>.

 

Carrying a tray of food in his hands, he walked down to the dungeons. The guards let him pass after a moment, once Kili reminded them that he was the king’s ward and he’d been granted permission to speak with the prisoner. It was dark down here, and cold. The cells were bare, just straw for beds. Kili was quietly grateful that Fili was somewhere safer and warmer.

 

The dwarf was asleep, or at least feigning it, his back to the cell door. Kili watched him for a moment before a guard unlocked the door and let him in.

 

“I’ve brought your supper,” he said softly, in his best Westron.

 

His voice didn’t sound anything like an elf’s, never really had, so it wasn’t surprising that when the dwarf turned to face him, he looked confused. Then blue eyes widened and he surged to his feet. The tray was set aside and the dwarf’s arms swallowed Kili in a tight embrace.

 

“ _Kili_ ,” he whispered, and there was so much emotion in his voice that Kili felt a tad uncomfortable. But this hug felt familiar, the warmth of another dwarf and that rough voice in his ear. He closed his eyes for a moment and a rush of recollection came back to him.

 

_Mother was busy cooking and Father was on a hunt, and Kili was sick. He cried and squirmed but Fili wasn’t enough to calm him. Strong arms scooped him up, held him close and sheltered him. Kili’s crying stopped, and he looked up to see that face, warm blue eyes, close-cut beard and dark hair, with those two braids that were so convenient for holding…_

 

Kili’s hands closed around braids without thought and emotion rose up, sticking in his throat. “Uncle,” he murmured.

 

How had he forgotten Thorin? Kili clung to him and breathed in. Thorin smelled like sweat and dirt and leaves, but underneath all that was the same smell he remembered as a child. He trembled slightly, overcome.

 

When they finally broke apart, both were slightly teary. In unison, they broke into awkward laughter and wiped away the moisture, smiling at each other.

 

“It truly was you, then. The one that I saw in that clearing,” Thorin said after a long moment, and Kili nodded. “I thought perhaps I had succumbed to madness.”

 

There was a soft chuckle from the younger dwarf. “Perhaps you have,” he replied with a small smile. “But It truly is me. Here, Uncle, please have something to eat. I have permission from the king to speak with you for a time.”

 

Thorin nodded and sank down to the ground, pulling the tray close and starting to pick at the food. “I can say one thing about the elves. Even their prisoners eat well.”

 

Kili gave a short nod, shifting uncomfortably. “What are you doing here, Thorin?”

 

Thorin paused, giving Kili a long, shrewd look before finally answering. “We are on a quest. For Fili’s coming of age.”

 

The younger dwarf watched him for a moment, frowning slightly. “Fili came of age seven years ago,” he pointed out quietly.

 

“Aye,” Thorin agreed. “But we’ve needed time to prepare for this. It’s taken years to ensure everything will be ready. We wanted to wait until the right time.”

 

Kili was quiet for a bit longer again, looking down at his lap. When he spoke again, it was just as soft as before. “You’re going back to Erebor, aren’t you?”

 

Thorin stilled. “I would rather that sort of information not get back to the Elvenking,” he replied stiffly. “We are going on a quest because Fili has come of age.”

 

That earned a mirthless sort of chuckle from Kili. “You don’t trust me,” he remarked. “Because you don’t trust him.”

 

The older dwarf shrugged. “You said yourself you had gained permission from the king to speak with me. No doubt he has sent you to learn of my intentions.”

 

Kili’s eyes narrowed. “You’ve trespassed on his lands and terrified his people during one of our feasts. You cannot blame him for wanting to know if you mean him and his people good or ill.”

 

Thorin stared open mouthed at Kili for a long moment. “You sound just like him.”

 

The younger dwarf’s eyes flashed, and Thorin saw Thranduil reflected there. “The Elvenking is the closest thing I’ve had to a father for _sixty years_ , Thorin. He’s raised me and cared for me as if I were his own kin. So don’t talk to me as if I owe you some kind of allegiance. I’ve been dead to you since the dragon attacked.”

 

“Kili--”

 

Kili cut him off. “My _name_  is Orothen. Don’t pretend you know me.”

 

Fuming, he turned on his heel and stalked off, leaving Thorin to stew in his own thoughts.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for this kind of shoddy chapter, but I really wanted to get something up before November. I probably won't be updating much for the next month due to NaNoWriMo, so I'll be focusing on my own original stuff instead of my fics. But don't worry, I promise I'll get back to it.
> 
> It's getting kind of frustrating to write out Kili's terrible Westron so just pretend that he stumbles over words and stuff. His Westron isn't very good and he has a strong elvish accent.
> 
> I sort of rushed this last part with Thorin so ah...pretend it looks better? I'll come back and clean it up when I have more time.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOW sorry this took so long to put up, things have been super crazy lately. This is short and I am so sorry about that. Filler chapters are kind of hard for me because I keep wanting to skip ahead to the really good stuff and I gotta be patient. 
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy, and sorry again that this took forever to get up.

“My King?”

 

Kili entered the room hesitantly, pausing at the doorway. Thranduil looked up from his paperwork, raising a thick eyebrow at the young dwarf.

 

“Orothen,” he replied cooly. “You look troubled.”

 

Kili glanced down at his hands, realizing he was still shaking with anger. He shook his head, forcing a small smile. “I’ve had words with the dwarves, my lord.”

 

“Ah.” That would explain it. Thorin had a tendency to irritate everyone he spoke to, it seemed. Thranduil sat up a little taller in his chair. “And?”

 

The dwarf didn’t hesitate before speaking. “They make for Erebor. They intend to reclaim it.”

 

The Elvenking’s eyebrows furrowed, and he laced his fingers together. It was usually difficult to read his expressions, but it was obvious that he did not like the news he had heard. For a long moment, he didn’t speak, almost long enough for Kili to get uncomfortable.

 

Finally, he replied. “This is troubling news indeed,” Thranduil rumbled, letting out a breath. Kili nodded.

 

“The dragon will slaughter them all,” he said, and his voice shook slightly. He couldn’t lose Fili, not now. Not after finally finding him again. “And it may not stop there. Esgaroth, any settlements along the River Running, even the Wood itself--”

 

Thranduil raised a hand and Kili fell silent. “I am aware of this,” the Elvenking said, and there was a note in his tone that made it clear Kili was not to interfere in this. There was another pause, and Thranduil spoke again.

 

“You must convince them to abandon this fool’s errand. I can take away privileges until they are ready to agree. See if you can make that clear to them,” Thranduil ordered, and Kili nodded.

 

“Yes, my king,” Kili replied, and inclined his head in respect. “I will keep you informed.”

 

The Elvenking nodded in response. “See that you do.”

 

X

 

Despite everything, Bilbo couldn’t help but admire the Halls. The craftsmanship was beautiful, making them look as though they were carved from one enormous tree that cradled all of the Halls. The passageways could get a bit confusing at times and the hobbit was reminded strongly of a warren in certain parts of the palace, but it was magnificent and full of light.

 

The elves were beautiful too, slim and tall and fair-skinned. Their hair was always kept so immaculate and Bilbo kept absently touching the horrible nest of tangled curls atop his own head and wondering if perhaps he could get his hands on a comb without anyone noticing. His little ring was serving him quite well so far, keeping him hidden from the eyes of the elves.

 

And anyone else, for that matter, but as the halls were occupied mostly by elves, that was who he needed to keep himself hidden from. He was very intrigued by the dwarf here, the one who looked and talked and acted more like an elf than any of the other dwarves Bilbo had met (which consisted mainly of the Company). Sometimes Bilbo followed him simply because he was curious to learn more about him.

 

His name was Kili, he discovered, though the elves called him Orothen, and he was Fili’s younger brother. Lost when the dragon attacked, the dwarves had thought him dead, only to find him here again. And now the poor lad was having to choose whether to side with the elves or with his own people. Bilbo couldn’t imagine how difficult that must be.

 

But most of the hobbit’s time was spent trying to find where all the dwarves were kept. The halls were large and deep, but he was pleased to see that for the most part, his friends were being treated alright. At first, they were staying in actual rooms, stripped of any weapons, of course, but then things changed. They were moved down into the dungeons.

 

“I’m sorry about this, Fili,” the dark haired dwarf had murmured apologetically as he’d locked his brother into a cell. “But until Thorin agrees to give up on Erebor, I cannot let you leave.”

 

Fili had let out a short, humorless bark of laughter, one hand curling around the cell bars. He looked tired, but at least not as deathly pale as before. “You would have an easier time turning shale into diamonds.”

 

Kili gave the blond dwarf a quizzical look, and Fili had sighed, shaking his head. “Never mind.”

 

Kili’s slimmer hand covered Fili’s for a moment and he gave him a small, apologetic smile before he turned to leave. Bilbo had to back up hastily to ensure the dwarf wouldn’t knock right into him. Fili let out a great sigh and sat down heavily on the ground. The hobbit bit his lip, shuffling forward quietly.

 

Hesitating for a moment, he slipped off his ring and hoisted a smile on his face. “Afternoon, Master Fili.”

 

The dwarf’s head jerked up and he was on his feet in a moment, a broad smile lighting up his face as he pressed close to the bars. “Bilbo! Where have you been?”

 

“Oh, here and there.” He couldn’t resist a grin now, stepping closer to the cell. “It really is good to see you looking better, Fili.”

 

Fili’s smile faded slightly and he gave a short nod, his braids jerking with the movement. “Thanks to Kili, I think. Bilbo, have you...have you _seen_  him?”

 

The hobbit nodded thoughtfully. “Oh yes, I’ve been keeping an eye on all you lot.  He’s very strange, isn’t he?”

 

The dwarf was quiet for a few moments, and Bilbo worried he’d said something to offend him before Fili looked back to him, a determined glint in those blue eyes. “We have to escape,” he murmured. “The elves won’t let us go.”

 

 _I should think not. This quest is mad_. Bilbo almost said his thoughts aloud before stopping himself. Probably best not to offend. “Yes, I’ve been looking into that,” he said instead, and Fili’s expression brightened. “There might be a way. I won’t tell you anything until I’ve worked out the details.”

 

He was just hoping that would be sooner rather than later. The longer the dwarves stayed here, no doubt the fouler their moods would get, and the last thing Bilbo wanted to deal with was half-starved, grumpy dwarves. Honestly though, they were probably eating better than he was

 

Bilbo’s stomach rumbled right on cue and he blushed slightly in embarrassment. Fili’s expression turned to concern. “Have you been eating?” the dwarf asked, his worry evident in his tone.

 

Bilbo felt a sudden rush of affection towards the young prince and smiled. “It’s nothing to worry about. I’ve been nicking things here and there. But listen, Fili. I need you to be ready the next time I come by, do you understand?”

 

Fili nodded vigorously. “Of course.” He paused, and a frown crossed his face. “What about Kili?”

 

The hobbit couldn’t help but feel incredulous. “What _about_  him? He’s very much against your getting to the mountain.”

 

“I know, but--” Fili sighed, scrubbing at his face. “He’s my brother, Bilbo. We can’t leave him behind.”

 

Bilbo watched him for a few moments, taking in that lost and confused look on the young dwarf’s face. He sighed, tension easing away. “I’ll talk to Thorin about him,” Bilbo replied, his voice a bit softer this time. “We’ll see what we can do, Fili.”

 

Fili nodded, giving Bilbo a small smile. “Thank you, Bilbo.” There was a noise from the stairs and he looked nervously to the hobbit. “You should get out of here. Quickly, before the elves see you.”

 

At that, Bilbo smiled rather proudly, pulling his gold ring out of his pocket. “Not a problem.”

 

Fili’s brow furrowed in confusion as Bilbo brandished the ring for him to see before slipping it on. The dwarf let out a startled noise as the hobbit vanished from sight. “Bilbo?” he whispered hoarsely.

 

“Yes, yes, I’m right here.”

 

He could hear him, but he couldn’t see him. There was a touch on Fili’s hand and he jerked back, surprised. “You’re hidden from my sight.”

 

“Well yes, of course.” Bilbo chuckled. “How do you think I’ve been getting around here? Elves are rather perceptive, you know.”

 

“You have a magic ring.” Fili grinned, shaking his head. “Brilliant.”

 

There was the sound of conversation from down the hall, and Bilbo gasped softly.

 

“I should go,” he said nervously. “I need to check on the others. Just remember Fili, be ready!”

 

And with that, the hobbit darted off down the path.

 


	6. Chapter 6

“Are you coming to the feast tonight?”

 

Kili sighed at the question, looking up at Legolas with a rather tired smile as he picked absently at his food. “No. Not this one. I have metalwork that needs to be finished and Lady doesn’t like being around too many people yet.”

 

It was all excuses, and the look on Legolas’ face made it clear that the elf knew full well his brother was just trying to get out of it. But then things had been...well...different since those dwarves arrived. Kili’s family. The idea made Legolas uncomfortable, but when he put himself in Orothen’s shoes and tried to think of how the dwarf must be feeling, his own discomfort seemed insignificant.

 

“Lady?” Legolas inquired, and Kili gestured to the young owl currently perched beside his untouched goblet.

 

“It’s the only thing she answers to,” he explained, and Legolas nodded, smiling faintly.

 

“It suits her,” the elf commented, and a hint of a smile crossed Orothen’s face.

 

“It does,” he agreed, and reached out to stroke her feathers absently. She didn’t nip at his fingers this time, nor had she for a while now. The little owl had finally taken to her master, crooning instead of chittering and closing her eyes as he petted her.

 

“Time in your forge has always done you good,” Legolas finally said, getting to his feet. “I have matters to attend to now, but I will give the Elvenking your pardon.”

 

Orothen smiled gratefully, looking up at the elf that he had called his brother for so long now. “Thank you, Legolas. I am lucky indeed to have you around.”

 

The son of the king just laughed gaily as he left. “That you are.”

 

xXx

 

Bilbo took deep, steadying breaths as he pressed himself against the wall. A feast...it was perfect. With the dwarves all safely imprisoned, the elves had let their guard down and created the opening that the company needed to escape. He’d had a rough plan cobbled together, though he had no doubts that the dwarves would object greatly to it.

 

Oh well. As long as they got out, he supposed it wouldn’t really matter how they felt about it. The dwarves would thank him once they saw the light of the sun and once again, Bilbo would be the hero.

 

Not that anyone had acknowledged the part he had played so far, which had him a bit miffed at times, but dwarves, he supposed, were not well known for their manners, and he would just have to take what he could get from them.  

 

Bilbo took several more breaths in an attempt to slow his heart down a bit more. It was racing wildly, thanks to the effort it had taken to steal the ring of keys that were now swinging from his hand. He did his best to muffle the noise as he made his way to the dungeons where the dwarves were currently being held, knowing that if he were caught now, it would ruin everything. His ring kept him and anything he was holding from sight, but it didn’t help with noise.

 

He winced to think of the racket the company would make once they were all together and thanked the Green Lady that all of the elves were currently occupied. If they were lucky, they could make it through this without any trouble.

 

Slipping down another flight of steps, Bilbo pulled off his ring and hurried towards the cells. “Fili!” he hissed.

 

A head of blond tangles shot up and the young dwarf looked around before catching sight of the hobbit. A wide smile spread across his face and he immediately sprang to his feet, gripping the bars of the cell door. “Bilbo!” he said in a loud whisper. “It’s about time; we were wondering if you had forgotten us.”

 

Bilbo scoffed, moving to the door and fumbling with the keys before finding the right one. The lock was old and half rusted, but he managed to fit the key in all the same. “I hardly think I could even if I tried.”

 

The door swung open with a creak and Bilbo flinched at the noise, but Fili was quick to rush out, looking about.

 

“Am I the first?” he asked, and the hobbit nodded.

 

“Yes, yes, come on, but _quietly_!”

 

Fili smiled to himself. Bilbo always complained about how loud the dwarves were, how their boots made a terrible noise and their steps were too heavy. Keeping that in mind, he tried to step a bit lighter, more like how Nori moved.

 

It took far longer than Fili had expected to gather up the other dwarves. First Ori, then Bifur and Bofur in a double cell, Nori, Gloin, Oin, Dori, Bombur, Balin, Dwalin, and finally Thorin, who was locked deeper in the dungeons than the rest of them. Relief flooded through him to see his uncle, and he clasped Thorin’s hand briefly, glad to have him back. It had been miserable trying to lead the dwarves on his own; he was more than happy to hand over the position of leadership to someone who was far more qualified.

 

“This way!” Bilbo hissed, flapping his hands wildly in a ‘come here’ gesture at the dwarves, and the company followed, speaking in too loud whispers as they greeted each other once more.

 

“You look better,” Ori whispered to Fili, smiling at him as he pressed against the older dwarf’s side.

 

Fili couldn’t help but smile back. He and Ori had been close since childhood, and while their paths had strayed from each other a bit once they had come of age, they were still fast friends. This quest had been an excellent way for the two of them to reconnect and reminisce about old times, and to make a slough of new memories together.

 

“Kili made sure of that,” Fili replied softly, and thought he saw Ori stiffen a bit in response to that.

 

“It’s really him, then?”

 

Fili nodded, wondering what was making Ori so tense and suspicious. It wasn’t like him. Usually he was the last one to judge, the most open-minded of the dwarves and easily the sweetest temperament.

 

“It’s him,” Fili confirmed. “After all these years, who would have thought that elves took him in?”

 

Ori nodded tersely, and Fili frowned, reaching out to squeeze his friend’s arm just above the elbow. “Is something wrong?”

 

The younger dwarf forced a smile, red hair looking almost brown in the dim lighting as they moved along the passage. “No, no! It’s wonderful that you’ve found him again, Fili.”

 

The blond dwarf hummed his agreement, letting it go for now. Clearly something was on Ori’s mind, but now wasn’t the time to discuss it. Bilbo was hissing at them again for being too loud  and most the company shared sheepish smiles before falling silent again.

 

It was unnatural for a group of dwarves to be this quiet, in Fili’s opinion, but they couldn’t spoil this escape. Still, he trusted Bilbo, at least until he realized that rather than being lead up, they were going further  _down_.

 

“I don’t believe it...we’re in the cellars!” Bofur’s tone was somewhere between admiration at all the elvish wine and frustration at Bilbo, but the hobbit turned around to shush him with a stern look, and Bofur quieted once more. There was a murmur of voices, confusion mingling together, but a hush came over them once they spotted the sleeping elves at the table.

 

Over a dozen empty barrels waited on the other end of the cellars, and it was to them that Bilbo herded the company. “In the barrels!” he said, only to be met with confusion and obvious unhappiness.

 

Normally, Fili would trust Bilbo on this one, but something had been nagging at him that still hadn’t been addressed. “What about Kili?” he asked, glancing between Thorin and Bilbo.

 

Thorin nodded in agreement. “These  _elves_  have spent long enough poisoning his mind with their filth.”

 

Bilbo made a face that made it quite clear he was unhappy with how Thorin made being an elf sound like a curse and hesitated, licking his lips. “We don’t have time--” he began.

 

“I won’t leave him.” Fili broke in, his tone firm. “Erebor is his home too.”

 

The hobbit was shifting nervously from foot to foot now. “I really don’t think--”

 

“This decision is not yours to make,” Thorin told Bilbo firmly. “I will not leave my own flesh and blood here to rot.”

 

“Oh!” Bilbo threw up his hands in despair. “ _Fine_ , but if we get caught because of this, it’s your own fault! Fili, nail these barrels closed once everyone’s inside, as tight as you can. Thorin, come with me.” He faltered slightly. “If...if you don’t mind.”

 

xXx

 

Kili had intended to spend the evening at his forge, but today, something was amiss with his metalwork. He couldn’t feel it the way he usually could and it set his teeth on edge. Irritated and unable to focus, he sat down on a bench with Lady on his shoulder and fed her little scraps of meat.

 

“What’s wrong with me?” he asked her, as though she held all the answers.

 

Lady just gave him a stern look and clacked her beak, demanding more meat.

 

He sighed and continued to feed her, wondering at the strangeness that was plaguing him. It was something that Fili had said earlier, how surprised he was to even consider that Kili might call Mirkwood home now. He loved the wood; he loved his family and the place that he had finally built for himself here. It had taken so long to come to terms with who he was and how the others saw him, and now all of that was being torn down again. He had finally decided to give up on finding his family and resigned himself to living here for the rest of his days. Which he was happy about. It was a good place and he had a life here. He had work and a place to sleep and people who cared for him. That was enough.

 

Until that day when Thorin burst into the clearing during the feast day and turned his world upside down.

 

“Who am I?” Kili asked the bird, but got no answer.

 

Was he Kili, or was he Orothen? He’d gone so long without hearing his use name that it still rattled him to hear Fili call him that. He’d been Orothen for over fifty years now and it was so strange to remember he hadn’t always been like that.

 

Kili closed his eyes and tried to remember Erebor before the dragon attacked, but he could only dig up vague memories at best. He remembered the sapphires in his mother’s hair and how they would glint in the light. He remembered a soft bed in front of a roaring fire, how he would crawl out of his own bed and into Fili’s when he had nightmares.

 

The memories awoke something warm and fond in his chest, but it wasn’t for the home he had. It was for his family. His real, blood family, who were here now. He could leave with them once they returned to the Blue Mountains, and the very idea made his heart race with excitement and anxiety all at once. Could he really do that? Leave behind everything he knew in the woods for a family he only barely remembered?

 

Fili. Fili would understand, or at least try to. The young dwarf let out a deep sigh before gathering Lady up and heading for his chambers. He’d leave her there while he went to visit with his brother and check up on him, perhaps bring some food with him. He always worried that Fili wasn’t eating enough after that spider attack.

 

His chambers weren’t far from his forge, a change that Thranduil had been quick to approve when Kili had started working metal regularly. Elves didn’t sleep like mortals did, so Kili never had to worry about disturbing someone with the noise that inevitably came with metalworking. It was his own place to think and make a name for himself, and he loved it.

 

Lady made a sleepy sound as Kili pushed open the door to his chambers, and he smiled fondly at the owlet before setting her down on the perch he had made for her. She gave him an affectionate sort of nibble before settling down and dozing off.

 

With Lady taken care of, it was to the dungeons that Kili set out. It wasn’t until he was halfway there that he realized he’d forgotten to bring more food. Sighing to himself, he just shrugged and continued. Fili was likely being fed just fine. Elves were not cruel to their prisoners, after all. Kili just couldn’t stop himself from _worrying_  sometimes. Perhaps it was because he finally had someone to care about that wasn’t an elf, immortal and untouched by time.

 

There was something amiss about the dungeons and Kili frowned as he walked further into the underbelly of the kingdom. Ah, the guards were missing. That was it. No doubt they were celebrating at the feast. Kili could hardly blame them; it wasn’t as though their prisoners were going anywhere, locked up as they were.

 

Or...perhaps they were. The young dwarf gaped as he came to the cell where Fili had been held, only to find it empty, the door unlocked and open. Panic raced through him and he turned back, knowing he had to tell someone immediately.

 

He hadn’t even made it a full step before something smashed into the back of his head hard. Eyes rolling back and his head searing with pain, Kili only had enough time to register a murmur in his ear and arms catching him around the chest before everything went black.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so funny story
> 
> I was having so many issues continuing this because I wanted so badly to move on with the plot but felt like I needed some filler. So this chapter was me saying "eh screw it I'll do flashbacks if I want more of Kili with his family" and continuing on with the plot FINALLY
> 
> Anyway, a thousand pardons for taking so long on this, but I hope the fact that it isn't filler will help make up for it, right?


	7. Chapter 7

Kili awoke screaming. 

At first he thought it to be a nightmare. He was trapped in some small container that bobbed and rattled and shook, sending him hurtling from side to side, shoulders bruising with the impact of each hit. He blinked furiously but his sight stubbornly refused to return.

 _I’m blind_ , he thought, horrified, and pawed at his eyes, trying to return his vision fruitlessly.

The air was thin and his terror made him burn through it all the faster. He could see nothing, nor could he hear anything but a great rushing noise. Deaf and blind, he screamed and clawed at his surroundings, finding only walls on each side, tight and close around him.

It was damp in here as well, water seeping steadily through his cloak, but he paid little mind to that. He had to find a way out of here, to free himself from whatever sort of prison he’d been thrown into. His mind was racing, trying to make sense of how he’d even come to be here. Kidnapped? That must be it. He must have been blinded and deafened and then thrown into some tiny chamber and...shaken?

Kili couldn’t make any sense of it and panic was making it harder to breathe. He tried to calm down but he couldn’t slow the racing of his heart, not when he had been stolen from his home and tortured like this.

He screamed louder, just trying to hear his own voice, but it was useless. Fingers scrabbled desperately at the walls of his container, breaking off tiny splinters that impaled themselves into his hands, but he couldn’t feel much pain at all in his state. He hammered on the walls with his fists, bursting into frantic sobs now. Maybe someone could hear him. Maybe he still had a chance of rescue. Thranduil and Legolas would surely come for him and save him once again like they had so long ago.

He had to count on it. He had to keep some kind of hope. The air thinned all the more and Kili could feel himself weakening, his screams dying down to harsh panting as he struggled to breathe. Is this how it would end? Suffocating on his own screams in some place he couldn’t even make sense of?

No. No. Thranduil would find him. Ada would find him. He would. He would….

Kili let out a defeated moan and slumped back against the wall as he felt himself slipping. A few more gasps, and the young dwarf’s blind eyes finally closed, darkness overtaking him. His last conscious thought was that of relief to escape this prison in some way.

X

it was nearly two days later that Bilbo finally staggered onto solid ground, collapsing onto the shore and shaking uncontrollably. His muscles ached fiercely from the effort of clinging to the barrels and he was so exhausted he wanted to cry. But there was still work to be done.

Inside the barrels were thirteen dwarves that had been very quiet for the last day, quiet enough to make Bilbo very nervous indeed. If he’d accidentally killed them…

No. They would be fine. Of course they were fine. Forcing himself to his feet again, Bilbo grabbed at the nearest barrel and began to tug the lid free, using a large stick and a bit of rock to get more leverage on it. With a creak and a bit of a pop, the lid finally came free. A gasp greeted him and a strong hand immediately reached up to clasp Bilbo’s wrist as the dwarf inside struggled to pull himself out.

“Well come on, hurry it up,” Bilbo snapped, a bit impatient as he helped the occupant out. 

It was Thorin, of course, looking bedraggled and worse than Bilbo had ever seen him. For a moment he just lay on the shore, breathing heavily, pale and bruised and soaked to the bone. The hobbit couldn’t help but feel a bit sorry for him, and started at the next barrel right away.

It was slow work, uncorking the barrels and helping the inhabitants climb out. At least the dwarves that had been out sooner began to help once they had caught their breath, and that moved the process along considerably. 

“Who have we got left, then?” Bilbo murmured after a bit, looking around. There were a few more barrels in the water, but some, he knew, were empty. There was no point wasting effort in opening an empty barrel.

He counted aloud as he looked over the freed dwarves. Balin was still lying on the shore catching his breath beside poor waterlogged Ori, who was being fussed over by Dori. Dwalin was pulling a shaky Fili out of a barrel, while Thorin was overseeing things and barking orders to Oin and Gloin. Bombur and Bofur were lying back to back beside the water, both of them looking half asleep. Bifur was counting rocks while Nori was busy tugging the last few barrels to shore. 

“Should be everyone,” Bilbo said to himself, but Fili was staggering over to his side, braids completely undone.

“Kili,” he blurted out. “Where’s Kili? Did you find him?”

 _Kili_ , of course. Bilbo kept forgetting about him. He frowned slightly before gesturing to the barrels that Nori was bringing to shore. “That barrel in the middle must be him; it’s riding lower in the water than the others.”

He had barely finished his sentence before Fili charged over to the indicated barrel, at first attempting to pull it open with his bare hands before Nori silently handed him a crowbar (where on earth had he found _that_?).

The barrel opened with a groan, and Fili crouched just in front of it. Kili was curled inside, brown eyes slowly opening as sunlight streamed into his container. Bilbo suppressed a gasp at the look of him. The usually well kept dwarf was pale and bloodstained, his fingernails ripped clean off in places and his fingertips bloody. His dark hair was tangled into wild twisted knots, and there were clear tear tracks down his face.

Fili’s heart broke at the sight. “Come on, Kili,” he said, holding a hand out to his brother. “We’re safe now.”

Kili took the indicated hand and crawled out mutely, licking his lips and looking around him. He was shaking violently and Fili pulled him into an awkward sort of embrace, which Kili tolerated for several moments before lurching out of his grip.

“Kili..?” Fili called questioningly, but before he could finish his thought, the young dwarf had doubled over in the mud, vomiting violently.

Bilbo made a face and looked away, only to notice that the rest of the dwarves were now staring at their new companion with ill-disguised looks of curiosity. Snorting in disgust, the hobbit made his way towards the little fire that Gloin had managed to get started and crouched down before it, trying to warm himself. 

Kili staggered to his feet, looking half-mad as he wiped his hand across his mouth. Everyone was watching him now, waiting to see what he would do next. With a growl, he lunged for Thorin, catching the taller dwarf by the front. His fingers curled into his tunic, rage evident on his face.

“What did you _do_ to me?” he snarled fiercely, his Westron heavily accented. 

Thorin looked rather startled, glancing around at the others. Dwalin surreptitiously fell into place at his flank. “We rescued you, nephew,” Thorin told him quietly but firmly. “We are taking you with us to the Mountain.”

“You--!” Kili broke into a stream of what was certainly some rather unkind words about Thorin in Sindarin, making the light elvish tongue sound harsher than Fili had ever imagined it could. Letting go of the would-be king, Kili staggered back a pace and nearly tripped, only for Bifur to catch him and gently set him back upright. Kili snarled at the dwarf and jerked away, hissing something angrily in Sindarin once more. 

“What gave you the _right_ to take me away from my home?!” he shot at Thorin. 

Hesitantly, Fili stepped in to touch his brother’s shoulder, only to have his hand brushed off right away. “Kili, you’re bleeding,” he said softly. “Let me help.”

“Don’t _touch_ me,” Kili spat, brown eyes burning with anger and betrayal. Startled, Fili stepped back once more, raising both hands in a gesture of surrender. Still muttering angrily to himself, Kili stomped off into the sparse wood beside them. Fili made to go after him, but Dwalin held a hand out.

“Let him go, lad,” Dwalin told him gently. “He’ll come around.”

Fili watched his brother go and sighed, starting to wonder for the first time if perhaps bringing Kili along had been a bad idea. “I hope so,” he murmured.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for taking forever to add this! RL has been really crazy, so here's a pretty short chapter but at least it's something? I will get another one up as quickly as I can.

The Company was too exhausted to do much more than set up camp at the edge of the river. It was a bit too open for their liking, but they had a wood on one side and a river on the other that offered them some shelter. With luck, it would be enough to keep them safe. They had been lucky that Bilbo had thought to gather up their packs and weapons, as much as he could carry, and while it wasn’t quite enough for everyone to have their own bedroll, the dwarves weren’t unaccustomed to sharing. It would do for now.

 

Bofur and Bombur, for instance, had fallen asleep once they had both finished their work, sitting back to back and leaning against each other. The others were scattered about, either already napping or staring blearily into space. Even Nori, who would often start up a game of cards or some such in quiet times, had dozed off with his younger brother’s head in his lap. After such a difficult trip here, they needed it.

 

Fili offered to take watch, but Dwalin shook his head and insisted the young prince get his sleep with the others. Dejected, Fili traipsed back to the center of camp and sat down next to the little fire they’d started, warming his hands. How could they expect him to sleep when Kili was out there somewhere, alone and angry and worse off than any of the rest of them? It had been selfish to drag him along against his will. Clearly his long lost brother had wanted to stay with the elves, as strange and inexplicable as it was. What right _did_  they have to take him away from his home, from the family he had made there?

 

He finally retreated back to Thorin’s side and attempted to sleep, but it wouldn’t come. His stomach roiled, both with hunger and with nerves. The guilt was eating him up from the inside. Hours passed, and still, Kili did not return. What if something had attacked him while he was weak and weaponless? What if he was bleeding out in the wood somewhere, unable to call for help?

 

The fantasies grew progressively more horrible until Fili simply gave up and picked up his knives, marching off into the wood despite Dwalin’s protests. He couldn’t let Kili stay out there on his own. He owed that much to him. Far more, really, but this was the least he could do.

 

Kili wasn’t far from camp. He didn’t have the strength at the moment to travel far, after all, and he had been busy in the hours since he had stormed off. Now, however, he was sitting quietly in a meadow, back resting against a fallen log. A nervous doe and her more reckless fawn had come to investigate the stranger, and Kili smiled faintly, speaking softly in Sindarin to greet them. The doe hung back, but the little fawn, still spotted with youth, trotted over to his side, tilting her head curiously at him. He held out a hand for her to sniff, and she promptly began to lick the salty residue of his sweat from his palm.

 

He chuckled quietly, soft enough to keep the little creature from startling, and after several moments, the fawn was content to sit down at his side. Slowly, moving very carefully, he ran a broad hand along her back, stroking her softly. The fawn seemed perfectly happy with this, and they sat in companionable silence for a long while.

 

At least, until the crackling of twigs beneath stomping boots resounded through the meadow. Great brown eyes widened in fear, and both deer sprang away into the underbrush. _Stupid clumsy dwarves_ , Kili thought angrily, his bad mood returning in full force as he leaned back. Sure enough, Fili crashed into the meadow just a moment later.

 

“Kili!” Relief colored his voice. “There you are, I’ve been looking everywhere! I was afraid something had happened to you.”

 

Kili scowled. “I am fine, as you can see.”

 

Fili had the good sense to hesitate awkwardly, looking uncomfortable. “Oh. Right.” This time he approached a bit quieter, moving slowly as though he expected Kili to spook like the deer he had frightened off. “It’s getting dark,” he continued, quieter this time.

 

A glance up at the sky confirmed this, and Kili nodded without saying anything. His brother sat down on the log, rather close, but he allowed it for now.

 

“Kili, listen…” Fili’s tone sounded unsure, and perhaps that was what caught his brother’s attention, brown eyes flickering up to meet blue ones. “I-I’m sorry that we dragged you with us. It was the wrong thing to do. You had a home there and...we took that away from you.”

 

Kili’s frustration reared its head once more, and his eyes narrowed. “You have no idea what you took from me,” he snarled back. “I was already being punished for disobeying orders and retrieving you, and now the Elvenking will believe it was me that set you free. All my life I have fought to earn his trust, his  _respect_ , and thanks to you _dwarves_ , it’s all gone!”

 

As he spoke, Fili’s eyes widened, realization sinking in. He hadn’t even considered that angle. “I didn’t realize--” he began, but Kili cut him off.

 

“Of course you didn’t! You only thought about yourselves. You could not even _comprehend_  that I wanted to stay!” It was all coming out now, all his fears and insecurities, the terror that he would never be accepted in Mirkwood again pitching his voice high. “They are my _family_ , and then you came along and...you did not even consider what you were doing to me. Do you have any idea how it feels to be trapped between two different worlds? Choosing one family would betray the other, and the _only_  person who recognized my struggle was Thranduil. And now it looks like I have snuck off like a thief in the night!”

 

Tears pricked at his eyes and he wiped at them angrily, realizing as he did so that Fili had gone pale, his mouth open and eyes wide. _Good, now he understands_ , he thought viciously, but it was halfhearted. This wasn’t Fili’s fault, he knew. Fili hadn’t made the decision. Thorin was the one to blame. He took a deep, shaky breath, trying to calm himself down.

 

“I apologize,” he said finally after several moments. “My quarrel is not with you,”

 

Fili was still staring, but at that, he shifted closer, wrapping his arms around his brother and holding him close. Kili breathed out, pressing his face into Fili’s shoulder and clinging to him.

 

“I am so sorry,” Fili whispered. “You have every right to be angry. We _didn’t_  think, we were so selfish and now we’ve hurt you. If you should choose to return to Mirkwood, I won’t stop you.”

 

The words were so soft and heartfelt that Kili shuddered, a lump rising in his throat. He battled it back down, clinging to Fili and realizing in that moment that there was absolutely no way he could let his brother go this alone. They needed each other, they always had, and now that they were reunited, he couldn’t bear to leave him again, even if it meant risking Thranduil’s anger.

 

“I will stay,” Kili finally choked out, fingers curled tight in Fili’s front. “But for you and no one else.”

 

That earned a watery chuckle from his elder brother, and Fili pressed their brows together. “Thank you,” he replied quietly, and Kili merely nodded.

 

It was several more long moments before they pulled back, and Fili took his brother’s hands, looking over his ruined fingernails. “Do they hurt?” he asked.

 

“Yes,” Kili admitted reluctantly. “But there’s nothing--”

 

He stopped short as Fili began to tear a strip off his tunic sleeve, gently taking Kili’s hand and dabbing off the blood. Kili watched silently as his brother painstakingly wrapped each damaged finger in cloth, each movement gentle and affectionate. By the time he had finished, there was a lump of gratitude in Kili’s throat. A glance between them communicated what didn’t need to be said.

 

“Come on,” the elder said finally, standing up and offering Kili a hand. “We should get back.”

 

A shaky smile twitched Kili’s lips upwards, and he nodded, taking that hand.


End file.
